Read Online The Milliner's Secret by Natalie Meg Evans - Free Book Online
Authors: Natalie Meg Evans
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called his ‘paint-bay’, which was separated from the main workshop by a cowhide ¬curtain. Behind the curtain he applied his paints and gold leaf, or sprayed surfaces with Japan-black lacquer, layer upon layer, until cheap pine panels resembled inlaid ebony.
Cora heard a whisper and went to peer through a hole in the leather curtain. In the bluish light of the paraffin stove, she saw her father. He was sitting on the ancient club chair he’d bought from a junk shop. Side-saddle on Jac’s knee, her ugly policewoman’s hat tipped back, was Sheila Flynn. They had their arms around each other.
Kissing! Cora’s mouth turned down in disgust. Her dad and Sheila Flynn gorging on each other’s faces! Jac’s hand was wedged inside Sheila’s jacket, under her shirt. As for her hand, it was where it definitely ought not to be.
Cora closed her eyes and heard, ‘So, shall we tell her in the morning, Jac?’
‘Must we tell her at all?’ Jac’s voice was a rumble. Slurred but intelligible, which told Cora that he’d been drinking beer, not whisky. ‘Won’t it be obvious when we’ve gone?’
Gone where? Cora opened her eyes and found a bigger hole to peer through. There was a selection because Jac had once hurled paint stripper at the curtain and it had burned through it, forming what looked like bullet holes. Oh, God, they were kissing again. Cora saw tea things laid out on the seat of a chair. A teapot and a tin mug, a rose-patterned china cup and saucer. Her mum’s teacup! A prized possession because it had been among the props used in The Importance of Being Earnest . How dare Sheila Flynn drink from it! Cora was about to wrench back the curtain when she heard Sheila say, ‘I’m going to give her hell for taking my things.’
‘Leave that to me,’ muttered Jac.
‘It’s only a rag, that dress, but what a cheek, going into my room. My best hat, too. And she’ll have seen all the other stuff.’
‘What stuff?’
Sheila’s voice turned girlish. ‘I had a shopping spree. All the pocket money you give me gone on lovely things.’ It became a baby’s lisp. ‘Oo like me looking pretty, don’t oo, Jacky?’
Too much. Cora hauled back the curtain, breaking a fingernail in her hurry to shine her torch into the lovebirds’ eyes. She was rewarded with a comical display of shock. Sheila got off Jac’s knee so fast that he yelped. She demanded, ‘How long have you been there?’
‘How long have you been fornicating with my dad?’ Cora shot back. ‘He’s still married to my mother, or had you forgotten?’
Jac got up, stiff joints making him ungainly. ‘You’d better know, Cora, this woman is everything to me. Don’t you misuse her good name, not in my hearing. ’
Sheila preened. See? her little smile implied. I’m the special one.
Cora pointed the torch at her father. ‘How much is everything?’
Sheila answered, ‘We’re getting married. We’re going to set up house in Barnham Street, so you’d better start looking for new lodgings.’
‘How can you marry him when Mum’s still alive?’
‘Divorce,’ Sheila said triumphantly. ‘The new law says three years’ desertion is grounds and your mother’s been gone a lot longer than that.’
‘But you’re Catholic,’ Cora lobbed back. ‘So’s Dad, when he can be bothered. You can’t believe in divorce?’
Jac found his voice. ‘I believe in anything that will make me happy. Coming home to Sheila every night is all I want.’
‘But what about me? I don’t earn enough to take a place of my own.’
‘You’ll go into lodgings. Or,’ Sheila threw Jac a playful look, ‘she could rent my bedroom. Donal wouldn’t mind.’ Then, her gaze closing on the green silk dress, she bared her teeth. ‘You can pay to have that washed, Cora Masson, and I shall want new stockings, too. And where’s my hat?’
‘Who blew the gaff on me?’ Cora wasn’t playing for time. It was suddenly more important than anything to know if Donal had
Cora heard a whisper and went to peer through a hole in the leather curtain. In the bluish light of the paraffin stove, she saw her father. He was sitting on the ancient club chair he’d bought from a junk shop. Side-saddle on Jac’s knee, her ugly policewoman’s hat tipped back, was Sheila Flynn. They had their arms around each other.
Kissing! Cora’s mouth turned down in disgust. Her dad and Sheila Flynn gorging on each other’s faces! Jac’s hand was wedged inside Sheila’s jacket, under her shirt. As for her hand, it was where it definitely ought not to be.
Cora closed her eyes and heard, ‘So, shall we tell her in the morning, Jac?’
‘Must we tell her at all?’ Jac’s voice was a rumble. Slurred but intelligible, which told Cora that he’d been drinking beer, not whisky. ‘Won’t it be obvious when we’ve gone?’
Gone where? Cora opened her eyes and found a bigger hole to peer through. There was a selection because Jac had once hurled paint stripper at the curtain and it had burned through it, forming what looked like bullet holes. Oh, God, they were kissing again. Cora saw tea things laid out on the seat of a chair. A teapot and a tin mug, a rose-patterned china cup and saucer. Her mum’s teacup! A prized possession because it had been among the props used in The Importance of Being Earnest . How dare Sheila Flynn drink from it! Cora was about to wrench back the curtain when she heard Sheila say, ‘I’m going to give her hell for taking my things.’
‘Leave that to me,’ muttered Jac.
‘It’s only a rag, that dress, but what a cheek, going into my room. My best hat, too. And she’ll have seen all the other stuff.’
‘What stuff?’
Sheila’s voice turned girlish. ‘I had a shopping spree. All the pocket money you give me gone on lovely things.’ It became a baby’s lisp. ‘Oo like me looking pretty, don’t oo, Jacky?’
Too much. Cora hauled back the curtain, breaking a fingernail in her hurry to shine her torch into the lovebirds’ eyes. She was rewarded with a comical display of shock. Sheila got off Jac’s knee so fast that he yelped. She demanded, ‘How long have you been there?’
‘How long have you been fornicating with my dad?’ Cora shot back. ‘He’s still married to my mother, or had you forgotten?’
Jac got up, stiff joints making him ungainly. ‘You’d better know, Cora, this woman is everything to me. Don’t you misuse her good name, not in my hearing. ’
Sheila preened. See? her little smile implied. I’m the special one.
Cora pointed the torch at her father. ‘How much is everything?’
Sheila answered, ‘We’re getting married. We’re going to set up house in Barnham Street, so you’d better start looking for new lodgings.’
‘How can you marry him when Mum’s still alive?’
‘Divorce,’ Sheila said triumphantly. ‘The new law says three years’ desertion is grounds and your mother’s been gone a lot longer than that.’
‘But you’re Catholic,’ Cora lobbed back. ‘So’s Dad, when he can be bothered. You can’t believe in divorce?’
Jac found his voice. ‘I believe in anything that will make me happy. Coming home to Sheila every night is all I want.’
‘But what about me? I don’t earn enough to take a place of my own.’
‘You’ll go into lodgings. Or,’ Sheila threw Jac a playful look, ‘she could rent my bedroom. Donal wouldn’t mind.’ Then, her gaze closing on the green silk dress, she bared her teeth. ‘You can pay to have that washed, Cora Masson, and I shall want new stockings, too. And where’s my hat?’
‘Who blew the gaff on me?’ Cora wasn’t playing for time. It was suddenly more important than anything to know if Donal had
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